


(Un)Holy Trinity

by artistocrazy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Best Friends, Catholic School, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, High School, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-21 21:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15566745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistocrazy/pseuds/artistocrazy
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt has entered Catholic Hell!  Thanks to his parents transferring him into Divine Trinity Academy for Boys during his sophomore year for disciplinary reasons, he's afraid he'll end up repressing his youth away or maybe being killed by a pack of wild nuns if he doesn't get kicked out fast enough (that's how Catholicism works, right?)! However, upon meeting Francis Bonnefoy, the "most connected" pansexual deviant and head of the school's gossip mill, and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a potential priest in training who is slowly exiting the closet, his youth may have taken a turn for the better.





	1. Room C31

Gilbert couldn't wait to explain to his parents how he was already desecrating the foundations of this new school in only the first day. Apparently he was devious enough to not only be thrown in detention already, but to also be escorted there by the vice principal herself! Although she wasn't a nun, Vice Principal Hedervary made up for all of the scary stories he'd heard about them in schools with her unwavering authoritarian presence - a looming aura Gil might miss after he broke her spirit. If he could break her spirit. So far, she seemed like the toughest egg to crack, but that didn't phase him much. He was sure his stay wouldn't last long - it usually didn't, in most schools.

Vice Principal Hedervary led Gil into a classroom whose windows only opened up to a tiny, uninteresting courtyard, making its white walls the most interesting thing about the room - room C31. There were other students scattered among the desks with one teacher sitting in the front who was flipping through a book.

"I found this one screaming to the sky in the prayer garden." The Vice Principal stated, pulling Gil into the room by his wrist and blocking the door for him to run away. "He's new," she stated with sarcasm dripping in her voice, "you'll like him." 

Gil turned back to face her and looked up at her inquisitively, "Wait - is that not how prayer works?" A couple of snickers could be heard from the room, although the source was unknown to Gil. The teacher at the front of the room glared in the general direction of the other desks with that noise in mind.

Hedervary had her attention solely on Gil, peering down at him darkly while speaking to him in a chilling manner. "Well, that's not how your  _detention_  today works, Mr. Beilschmidt."

"Would it shorten my time here to know I was clearly tortured out there praying?" Gil inquired, steeping his fingers in an attempt to look negotiable.

"It seems your screaming tortured the rosary group, who were the people the garden was open to in the first place.  _You_ looked like you were enjoying it too much." 

"I mean," Gil shrugged, "we wouldn't want me to be too happy here, now would we?"

The vice principal pointed to an empty desk in the middle, slightly more isolated from the rest, "You can sit and pray quietly from your desk. That should be more than enough torture for you to not be heard."

Gilbert started to sniffle before he asked her in feigned earnest, "Are you saying no one is listening to my prayers?"

"Sit down, Beilschmidt!" she raised her voice slightly but kept her chilling command, "and pray that seat doesn't feel too comfortable for you to want to keep returning to it!" Gil sauntered over to his new throne and hoped she saw him defiantly wiggle himself into it before she turned to leave the room and closed the door with a scarily controlled slam. 

He made a small vow to himself to see the highly pressured authority figure snap within the week from dealing with him - to see her overly tight bun fall apart as she would try to bludgeon him with one of her army shoes. That might be fun to tell everyone at home when he got back! It would certainly be more entertaining than hearing about his little brother, Ludwig, winning another science fair for another robot to help Mutti in the kitchen. Seriously, why couldn't Luddy engineer something crazy, for once? Live up to the Beilschmidt name in front of those baby teenagers?

Gil mused on these images while throwing his feet up on the seat in front of him. "Feet on the floor!" he heard the teacher at the front desk call him out with his nose in that book. Maybe this is what his parents were talking about when they were thinking about good, solid 'Catholic school' discipline - Jesus is always watching.

"Teach, have you seen these gams?" Gil argued, while kicking out one of his legs like a can-can dancer, flopping it onto his neighbor's desk and waking him up from a nap. "I've gotta make room for legs like these! These kiddy desks just aren't going to cut it!" Gil wondered if maybe he could get this one to snap in the next hour.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you were sent here," the teacher smirked up at him before settling back into a glare. "Feet on the floor, Beilschmidt. And Karpusi, no sleeping!" Gil grumbled as he lowered his legs to the floor and tucked his feet under the desk, kicking the little book basket under them. Even if it wasn't physically impossible for him to have his soles on the floor, Gil would not give this school the satisfaction of complete submission. 

Gilbert thought to lower his head and rest, although he would never admit all of the screaming tired him out, until the teacher barked at him again from behind his literature, "Sit up straight!" Gil slowly leaned back and rolled his eyes. Examining the room again he drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking of ways to make the time go by faster. He had finally gotten a better view at the book the teacher was reading - it was one he'd snuck off of Mutti's nightshelf. An evil smile spread across Gil's face as he found his next activity.

"Whatcha reading there, Teach?" Gil called out, smiling from ear to ear. His teacher didn't pay him any mind and answered him somewhat absentmindedly. "Shouldn't you be praying, Beilschmidt?"

"I can't," Gil pouted, "I'm too distracted and disgusted by you reading that  _smut_." A couple of eyes peered up after Gil made such an accusation.

The teacher looked over the top of his book at the new student who was probably using slang with him. "You shouldn't be talking, but I'm afraid I don't know what you mean when you call this  _smut_."

Gilbert shook his head and peered back at the man innocently, leaning a little more forward in his desk as he whined, "Do you really want me to say it in front of all of these impressionable young minds in this house of God?" The teacher's eyes grew wide upon being caught and he gripped the sides of the book, splaying his hands to cover the title.

"I don't want to hear another peep out of you, Beilschmidt. Do you understand?" Gilbert's only response was to nod and sink back into his desk, placing this nugget of information in the back of his mind for later use. His attention then went to the other students in the room. There was Sleeping Beauty next to him drooling a little from the side of his mouth. A couple other kids had their phones out under their desks. A few others, most notably this brunette who really looked like he didn't belong in there, had out one of his textbooks and was studying. If the kid didn't look like he could kick Gil's ass across a soccer field, then Gil probably would poke fun at him for it. Hell, he was already thinking of poking fun at him just to see what would happen. 

Gil stopped scanning the room once he locked eyes with a shaggy blonde, who was looking right back at him with lidded, electric blue eyes. The two then commenced in a staring contest. The blonde kept making faces at Gil to see if he might be able to throw him off. Noticing early that his devilish red eyes weren't phasing his opponent, Gil thought maybe he could throw him off with suggestion.

"What," Gil whispered, "you see something you like, Blondie?"

All the blonde did in response was smile, wink, and pucker his lips at him, making Gil's eyes go wide, his pale face turn red, and his hands clench. His plan had totally backfired! He spoke a little louder, nearly sputtering, "Don't exoticize me, smartass!"

"No swearing!" Gil heard the voice from the front of the room scold him again. The blonde's wry smile turned into a playfully toothy grin. So this was what he wanted - to see Gil keep getting in trouble. Gil was very tempted to want to break a few of those teeth for those few moments of schadenfreude the blonde was clearly relishing. Not wanting to give Blondie the satisfaction, Gil looked around again for more things to do.

After a minute or so of looking, his attention was back on the brunette, and he felt so compelled to figure out what his deal was. Gil checked his desk and found a spare piece of paper he could easily turn into an airplane. After folding it up in his lap, he peered up at the teacher, who was now much more absorbed in his book. After tapping the top of the desk a few times to see that his teacher was fully engrossed in what he was reading, Gil tossed the paper airplane at the brunette, hitting his shoulder. It took Gil a second to remember he didn't write anything on the paper, so once the brunette turned to look behind him, Gil whispered to him sharply to get his attention, "Pssst! Hey, Mac! What are you in for?"

The teacher slammed his book on the desk before reprimanding Gil, "I said no talking!" To their dismay, the teacher had just completely lost his place, causing Gil to snicker. Apparently, he wasn't alone. Gil was hearing a tittering laugh trying to come through on that shaggy blonde a few desks down biting his hand - he had never met someone who unironically went 'ohonhon' while laughing.

"Oh," Gil chided him, "so you think that's funny, Pepe le Pew?"

Blondie stared back at him, ready to best him in words. "Not as funny as your laugh - How did you and Bert get separated?" At this point, the brunette started to giggle a little, but it was hard to tell if he was laughing at the situation or at something that might have been in that textbook. 

"Well, Bonnefoy," the teacher interrupted them, fingering through the pages again, "if you and Beilschmidt think this is so funny, then maybe you can both have a good laugh about it in detention next week."

"But Monsieur!" Bonnefoy asked teasingly, "I thought we weren't allowed to talk or laugh in detention!"

"You know what I meant! You are both _this close_  to having me write you both up for next week. Now keep quiet!" Sour looks had shown up on both of their faces - this teacher was so close to cracking and leaving the room, but Gil's voice was sore. After a moment of searching for something new to do, Gil accidentally smacked his lips into a popping sound and he noticed it made the teacher twitch a little. Gil needed to make sure it wasn't a fluke - after waiting a few seconds he popped his lips again, and noticed the teacher react in a similar way. Natural cause and effect - oh, this was going to be a joy! 

For the next couple of minutes, Gil would adjust his position to lean in a little closer to the desk and pop his lips, for his teacher to look up and have to make a guess as to who did it. A moment or so later, Gil had his lips pursed to pop until someone else had beaten him to the draw. After the teacher scanned the room and returned his gaze to the book, Gil looked to find the culprit. He turned his head to glance at his first guess - Bonnefoy - who was trying hard not to laugh, but he was shaking his head to clarify it wasn't him. Bonnefoy then pointed at the brunette studying, who looked back at them wearing an incredibly guilty grin and a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. The three conspired in silence to create a symphony of pops, hoping it would drive the teacher slowly mad. 

After a few moments of them slowly popping off to the tune of "The Song That Never Ends" and then transitionining into a whistling round, the teacher burst up like a piping hot kettle. "Beilschmidt, knock it off!"

"It's because I'm an albino, isn't it?" Gil asked back matter-of-factly. His two counterparts were gripping their desks, trying desperately not to burst out laughing.

The teacher only responded in exasperated shouts. "What?!"

"Why you keep targeting me" Gil said, almost disinterestingly filing his nails against his uniform, "It's because I'm white, right?"

"Mr. Beilschmidt," the teacher shouted, "I keep calling on you because you are irritatingly disruptive!" 

Gilbert swung his feet out from under the seat and popped up to stand in a squat like a cartoon character: "Hey, how's this for disruptive? I've read that book already!" the albino pointed at the book accusingly, "The stupid twist is that the homewrecker -"

"Don't you dare!" The teacher pointed back at him sharply.

"Was a ghoooost!" Gil wailed, waving his hands in a spooky manner. The shaggy blonde and impish brunette were now moaning for added effect and devolving into boisterous laughter.

The teacher exasperatedly threw the book to the ground. "Son of a bitch!"

Gil tisked over at the aggravated professional in front of him. "Un uh! Naughty naughty, Teach! No swearing!"

"He's right, Señor," the brunette finally spoke, "You really shouldn't be swearing."

"I am the one running detention, Mr. Fernandez!" the teacher announced while hunching over his desk, pointing his finger down towards the ground for added effect.

"Excuse me," the brunette raised his hand innocently, "If you are trying to address me properly, you should say 'Mr. Fernandez Carriedo'."

"Well, Antonio," Bonnefoy interjected before the teacher could reprimand him, "we already know he is not a proper man if he reads softcore porn on the job." Bonnefoy casually let the read slip out and land on everyone's ears like music. The whole room errupted in childish "oooo"s over that one.

"Wait! Francis - _that's_  what that book was!?" The brunette gasped before pleading with the sinner, "Think of Jesus, Señor!"

"That's it!" The agitated man yelled at them, "Beilschmidt! Bonnefoy! Fernandez Carriedo! All three of you are headed for detention next week! Stay after to get your slips!"

"Can we spend our time next week cleaning out your porn library?" Antonio asked it as if he deeply cared for this man's eternal soul. Gil and Francis's eyes were watering from holding back their laughter.

Before the roast session could continue, the bell rang to signal the end of extra curriculars and of detention. The entirety of the room got up to leave, with the trio meeting up in the middle for their detention slips. For them, picking up these slips felt like picking up concert tickets, if it meant being in the same room with the other two. They remained in relative quiet picking up those papers until they had gotten into the hallway, where they decided to sing "The Song That Never Ends" as a group loud for the teacher to hear. Once they were out of earshot, they'd made plans to meet again before Tuesday.


	2. Manifested Myth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert hangs out with Francis and Antonio outside of detention, if not to share his life's story, than to inadvertently amuse them with how awesome he is.

"Screaming in the prayer garden?" Francis shook his head. He munched away at the finger food for the group and laughed through his nose. "Screaming!"

"Ja?" Gil retorted, lounging in the soccer ball beanbag across the room and feeling the Frenchman's judgement. "What's it to  _you_?"

Leaning forward, Francis allowed himself another impish grin. "Were you really screaming out there, or were you actually praying and Héderváry couldn't tell the difference?"

"Hey, that wasn't very nice," Antonio butt in from his bunk. It was strange to learn the two strangers were roommates. So much of how they interacted was in opposition, as far as Gilbert could see. Here Francis was, loud and proud about being himself with his girly finger foods, and there was Tonio, a kid who, frankly, didn't have a sinful bone in his body. Quite the odd couple.

"I don't need you to protect me just because I'm new here,  _Father_ ," Gil snipped back, taking careful watch of the title creep under the Spaniard's skin as he munched away on some vending machine chips.

Like clockwork, Antonio countered with a whiny look on his face and hitch in his shoulders. "I told you, I'm a priest in training. You can't call me that. It's like a sacrilege." 

While they both snickered at the Baby Priest's expense, Antonio turned his attention back to Francis. "And, Francis, you know it's rude to make fun of something a person can't change. That might just be how God wanted Gil's voice to be," the Spaniard suggested. "Sometimes people are just loud. It's not  _his_  fault he sounds that way."

" _What way?_ " Gil retorted. "I'll have you know I am a siren back home! God's auditory gift to humanity! You hear my voice one time, and you don't forget it!"

"I'm sure it brings everyone to tears, hearing you sing," Francis jeered.

The Prussian shrugged off the comment, indulging in more chips. "Eh, screw you. At least  _they_  miss me."

"Who's they?" Antonio peered over to the new kid with kind eyes.

"Who's they? Hah! Only everyone I've ever corrupted!" Gil stated proudly, swallowing the mouthful of chips before his voice inevitably rose in fervor. "They may not know it yet, but I have changed their lives! They didn't know what they had before I came along! I've inspired them, you see? I have stirred something in them they couldn't possibly live without!"

"Annoyance?" the Frenchman droned.

"If you really found me that annoying, Sweetheart, you would have kicked me out hours ago," Gil grinned slyly. "It is  _your_  room."

"Sí, but Gilbert, I still don't understand," Tonio pressed on. "Who  _is_  they? Who are these people that you're missing?"

"Whoa! Hold on a second there, Baby Priest," the Prussian paused the line of questioning. "I never said I  _missed_  anybody. I said people  _miss_  me, and they're right to miss me. Who wouldn't? I would miss me."

"Tsk, tsk. You can't even give us a name of someone who misses you," Francis shook his head. "How sad. You  _can_  tell us, you know. You could lie to us, too. If you really do plan to be expelled in a week, I wouldn't have time to look into it."

"Ha! There you have it," Gil puffed out his chest and boasted to Antonio, gesturing to his roommate and licking cheese off his fingers. "See, I have no time to keep track of all of the people who care about me. Magnetism's my curse. It's heartbreaking for everybody in the end."

Antonio scratched away at his hair and looked to the new kid puzzled. "Gilbert, I think you might be confused. I do not think magnetism means what you think it means."

"Excuse you, Baby Priest," the Prussian taunted, trying and failing to appear imposing rising up from the beanbag chair, "but I read more than the Bible and what's on my mother's bookshelf. I think I know what I'm talking about."

"So why have you been expelled from so many schools? I would think the magnetism would protect you."

Francis nearly snorted on his finger food from the desk. This was part of the fun of living with Antonio. The Frenchman knew Tonio didn't mean to read people so well, but man, could he!

Gilbert wasn't as amused. Feeling standoffish, the Prussian sneered down at the Spaniard.  "Because I prayed to leave."

The conversation was quickly interrupted by an outburst of laughter from Francis, who nearly looked like he would fall out of his chair.

"Oh, so do you think my spiritual connection is funny business, Pepe le Pew? Huh?" Soon, Gil was looming over the blond. "You doubt the power of my prayer?"

"I pray that you give it a rest before you hurt yourself!" the Frenchman snickered. "It's amusing to see how far you'll go to evade a simple question!"

"Hey, I don't have to answer to  _you,_  French Fry," Gil retorted. "You're out of chips, by the way."

"Look," Francis went on, barely acknowledging Gil and fussing over the stray threads on his sleeves. "Your business doesn't matter to me in the end. I can't really talk about you with anyone if you're just going to be leaving us in a week. I have bigger fish to fry."

Gil's offense had been piqued. Being goaded for information was one thing, but being passed over was just taking it too far. "Excuse me? Am I not memorable enough for you to gossip about me?"

"Well, I don't gossip about anything that I don't already know is true," the Frenchman continued on in nonchalance, filing his nails. "Your war stories, while cute, could practically be myths drugged up by that wild imagination of yours."

"Excuse you?! Cute?! MYTHS?!" the Prussian's screech nearly sounded like a squeak. "You think my expulsion stories are myths?!"

"Oh, come on," the blond rolled his eyes, understanding full well what buttons to keep pressing. "You caused a nuclear bomb scare at a school-wide assembly? You stole a color guard flag and streaked across a football field during a halftime show? You were pursued for five blocks on the headmaster's power scooter and crashed it into a lake?"

"He had two! I was doing him a favor!"

"Uh huh," Francis answered him, purposely sounding bored. "All of this, and you have no scars to show us?"

"Aren't the emotional ones obvious?" The Prussian countered.

"But you never had a scratch on you from doing all of these wild, careless things? Nothing you show off at parties?"

"Un uh," Gil shook his head and backed away defensively. "I'm not getting naked for you, Frenchie."

"Oh no," Francis said dryly, barely moving from his desk chair. "You've seen right through me. It was all a trap to spend a lovely and exotic night of sin with you in the same room I share with Tonio, who will absolutely tell a priest about it in his weekly confession and have us both expelled. How clever you are."

Antonio shrugged, "He's probably not wrong."

Gil stared at Antonio with an eyebrow raised. After a moment of silence, Gilbert strode over to the oblivious oaf and spoke gently. "Tonio, you know you share a room with a gay guy, right?"

"Bisexual," Francis corrected him.

"Whatever," Gil droned back. "Isn't that kind of a no-no for you Catholics? Doesn't that look suspicious to you, that you sleep together? That you ended up in detention together?"

"Just because they found us naked doesn't mean we were doing anything like  _that_ ," Antonio defended himself calmly. "It was just a game of strip poker."

Gil's posture stiffened and his eyes widened dramatically as he bit down hard on his hand. The Prussian was about to say something, but as soon as he took his first breath, Francis spoke before him. "Say anything and I'll get you expelled over something trivial. You don't even have to do anything. I know a guy who can fix the files."

"Oh, Francis, it's okay," Tonio smiled and looked over to Gil with genuine concern. "Gilbert, I understand. It's not that uncommon to be struggling with the gay thoughts at this age. That doesn't make you bad-"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Gil exclaimed, backing up defensively. "Who said I was having gay thoughts?!"

"You did," Tonio pointed him out. "You just implied I was in a sexual relationship with Francis because of his orientation, right?"

"...Touche... My bad."

"I mean, I don't know what he does with that stuff really," Antonio shrugged. "He never brings anybody back here for that, and even he'll tell you that he and I don't do anything."

Francis nodded. "He's not wrong."

"Besides," Tonio continued, "for all I know he could be making up stories, too."

Gil could swore he felt his blood pressure spike. Why couldn't these two just revel in greatness when they saw it? How hard did he have to fight to be recognized for his sheer awesomeness? "How many times do I have to tell you two it's all true until you believe it?!"

That wide, toothy grin reappeared on Francis' face once again. "Well," he simpered, "we could either break into Principal Vargas' office and see your file. That is, if you're looking for a more immediate excuse to be expelled. Or we could... extend your stay here a little longer  _and_  give you the legacy and reputation you're after."

"Jokes on you, French Fry, I don't work this hard to get caught-" Gil paused, taking in what the blond said. His eyes squinted, peering over at the sly devil nibbling on finger food at his desk. "I'm listening."

"What if I told you there was a way you could build the most spectacular legacy and keep from being expelled until you reached your magnum opus?"

"... Go on..."


End file.
